


Magpie Gold

by JeanSouth



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-28
Updated: 2015-08-28
Packaged: 2018-04-17 16:22:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4673375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JeanSouth/pseuds/JeanSouth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The conclusion he draws is that Akashi orchestrated it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Magpie Gold

**Author's Note:**

> for an anonymous prompt!

Midorima remembers walking into his first class and sitting next to a red-head. He recalls, distinctly, being fascinated by the shade like clichéd roses in romance movies, or a shade like a setting sun at the right moment for a kiss, or a shade like - like his eyes. Eyes, he supposes, would be the wrong word. One eye like mulled wine, promising heat and warmth (which were utterly different things when it came to this man), and one like gold that would drive magpies wild trying to hoard it.

“Hello,” he had said, and the man had taken a shine to him. They had spent hours, days, perhaps cumulatively weeks in niche cafes talking over Kafka and Freud and Norman, taking sides sometimes they did not consider true for the sake of argument and refining reasoning.

He could not, though, for all his intelligence, and debates, and professors who praised his work and invited him for internships, figure out how that meant he woke up beside Akashi two days after Halloween.

The sheets smelled faintly of Jasmin washing powder and sex; and whilst he could remember how it happened, he simply could not figure it out.

It had started, as all things did, with a kiss. He had reached for his cappuchino to sip at it and privately, secretly enjoy the chocolate sprinkles the barista always added without asking. A few lines appeared at the corners of Akashi’s eyes in a secret smile; one that said he knew Midorima enjoyed the sprinkles, and the chocolate frog that was free with every hot drink on a Monday. He set his drink down, savouring the taste. As he turned, Akashi opened his mouth as if to say something, then gave up, leaned in, and kissed the corner of his mouth.

“Chocolate sprinkle,” Akashi murmured, then kissed the edge of his lips instead, then the centre, then stole a kiss, savouring the taste of coffee, the tiny bit of minty-fresh toothpaste taste, before sitting back. He had never seen Akashi look so triumphant. “The first one. The rest - I just wanted to.”

Midorima had sipped his coffee again for lack of words, and licked his lips for sprinkles. Akashi watched his mouth with a voracious appetite, and did nothing to still Midorima’s pounding heart.

After coffee, Akashi took him home, and showed him books - a great many of them - and kissed him again over prosecco and fish with vegetables on the side. In a quieter place, with a quieter mind, it felt pleasant, though his heart pounded until he blood rushed in his ears, and he leaned down, held on to Akashi’s upper arms, and fell most likely even further in love than he had ever let himself recognise before.

From there he couldn’t stop his own instinct to follow Akashi’s lead to the bedroom, allowing himself to land on the bed, fingers grappling for purchase on the buttons of Akashi’s shirt to feel skin, craving more with every inch bared. He gasped as his neck was savaged, Akashi drawing marks of ownership and passion on to him where anyone who might look would see it if only they were too look hard enough. He tilted his head back and grasped at the bedsheets when Akashi fumbled with his belt, then the buttons, just enough to reach into his trousers and grip at his cock, already hard in anticipation of what was to come.

He squirmed, trying to shed his trousers, spreading his legs at a touch of a command, and shivered at the sound of a bottle opening. A choked laugh from Akashi made him look up; if he were honest, he could not remember what the bedroom looked like, but could tell in exquisite detail the way Akashi’s cheeks were flushed and his lips were just slightly parted.

“Chocolate,” he informed Midorima, holding up the bottle. He licked his lips, dropping his eyes to stop from bursting out laughing at the coincidence.

“It’s becoming a running theme,” Midorima remarked, then stopped, brain shortcircuiting the moment Akashi leant down and took Miidorima’s cock into his mouth, distracting him from the wandering fingers gently prodding at his hole for entrance. It felt bizarre, but not bad; if it were another man, he didn’t think he would have enjoyed it, but a thrill took him at the thought of intimacy with Akashi.

He had only allowed it as a private thought before, in the shower or in the dark of his bedroom. The lights here shone down on him brightly, illuminating every dirty act as a second finger entered him, making him spread his legs wider on instinct at the intrusion.

“Good?” Akashi asked, though it sounded muffled due to his full mouth.

“Good,” Midorima confirmed, wincing only a slight at the third finger, then at them spreading open to stretch him wider and grow him accustomed to the feeling.

“It will get better,” was the promise Akashi made as he sat up straighter and covered his cock in the lubricant. Now Midorima could smell it; a rich, velvety scent of dark chocolate. He lined himself up, gripping at Midorima’s shoulders to brace himself as he pushed, slow and gentle but firm. His eyes seemed to keep every part of Midorima in mind; looking to see his tensing muscles, the look in his eyes, the slightest tilt in his mouth to detect discomfort. As he settled in fully, he brushed his hair back from his face, and pulled out far more suddenly than he’d pushed in, repeating and repeating over and over until Midorima lost his breath on a desperate moan.

“That-” he couldn’t finish, squeezing his eyes shut as the spot inside him was assaulted over and over, driving him towards his edge until he couldn’t bare it anymore, spilling his seed over himself, over Akashi’s clean sheets. There was a twinge of guilt inside himself until Akashi followed him then pulled out, his sperm dripping onto the sheets under him until he rolled over, fell on his back and tried to catch his breath.

“That was… fantastic,” he tried to finish his earlier sentence, earning him a slight laugh.

“I think I have some Montrachet wine, I think,” Akashi sat up for a second before flopping back down, his hand finding Midorima’s to tangle their fingers together. “Now is a good occasion.”


End file.
